Privation
by The Flaming Dragonfly
Summary: Daniel has troubles. His friends are there for him.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Privation  
Author: The Flaming Dragonfly  
Category: Angst, H/C  
Season/Episode: Around season 3 or 4.  
Spoilers: I don't believe there are any.  
Warnings: A little strong language.  
Summary: Daniel has troubles. His friends are there for him.  
As this is my first SG-1 fanfic, feedback is greatly appreciated, as is constructive criticism. Flames will be absorbed.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld, and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles, and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions, and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and is solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea, and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

PRIVATION

What…what's going on? I don't know…

Why can't I see anything? It's so dark. Where is everyone?

I can't see… I think…it's bad. My head hurts. Something's wrong.

I can't hear anything. I can't see and I can't hear. My God, what's going on?

------

I must be in the infirmary. It feels like one of their beds. And it smells like it. I can't see or hear anything. Something has happened, but I have no idea what. I can't remember coming back through the gate, but obviously something has happened to cause me to temporarily lose my hearing and sight. Just because I can't remember what happened to cause this…

Surely there's an explanation for this. The mission was routine. Meet and greet. No danger. No surprises. Jack was bored. We were preparing to return. Then…something. I remember seeing the gate in the distance. Walking. Then…

Did I fall? I think I remember falling down.

Pain in my head. Like a flash of light. Then nothing until now.

I'm scared.

------

Someone is taking my blood pressure. At least I can feel. I'm okay for now. I mean, at least I'm alive. Just can't see or hear.

Doctor Fraiser will figure this out. I just have to be patient. She always has the answers. It may take her awhile, but I know she'll figure this out. I just have to wait a little longer.

Just hope she hurries.

------

What's this? A call button. Someone is putting a call button in my hand. Sure, I'll push the button and then you can guess what I want. Funny.

Holding the call button. Should I push it? I don't feel anyone nearby. I wish…

I push the call button.

That was fast! I feel soft hands on my arm. It must be Fraiser. The hands are small. They feel good on my arm…cool, soft.

What…oh, a straw. She must think I'm thirsty. Okay, I'll drink some for her.

------

My eyes are closed. I open them but nothing is different, so I just keep them closed. I wish I could close my ears.

If your eyes are closed, you're not supposed to be able to see anything. So by keeping them closed, I'm playing a game called fooling yourself. See, my eyes are closed, so of course I can't see anything.

My ears ruin the game.

------

This is not good. I've really got to use the bathroom. What am I supposed to do? I can't find the call button. I know it's around…probably just beyond my fingers.

Hey! Anybody there? I think I'm speaking.

Must've worked. Someone's touching my arm. Now what?

Bathroom. Did I say it?

Oh. A urinal. Well, I guess this is gonna have to work. Don't have much choice.

------

I can't stop fidgeting. This bed is too bumpy. Don't they have anything more comfortable?

I've been really patient. I've waited for the cure. I mean, what else can I do, right? Just lie here and wait. But enough is enough. It's time for things to begin happening, so let's get going here. Daniel's getting tired of darkness and silence. Daniel would really like to see and hear again. Anybody listening to my body language? I'm pretty fluent by now. Another language to add to my repertoire.

I roll over for the millionth time and bump into someone. Who?

A hand on my shoulder, large and firm. Jack. I know his touch. Amazing strength in his fingers. I stop moving immediately, instantly soothed by the pressure. But he removes his hand. I can't tell if he's still there. I reach out. Please don't take your touch away already.

The hand returns. This time I manage to grasp the fingers…hold on to them. Please don't take your touch away, Jack. I'm really…starting to freak out here. Can't see; can't hear. Not a fun time. Somehow you've got to convince me that it's going to be all right. You've got to do some talking to me through your hands.

He's still holding my hand. I know he's got to be embarrassed. I would be. But he hasn't tried to pull away. Maybe…maybe he knows how scared I am. I think he understands me better when I can't talk.

------

I don't like this. Even though I can feel the hands guiding me and I know that I won't be led into a wall, I still want to push my own hands out to feel my way.

We're in the bathroom again. I really hate this. The urinal was bad enough, but sitting on the toilet wondering who's trying not to watch while I do my business is just about the worst thing. I don't know how much longer I can do this.


	2. Chapter 2

I've been lying in this bed forever, and I just about can't stand it anymore. I can smell my lunch but I'm not going to eat. I'm not going to grope around like some animal trying to find the food to put it in my mouth.

What's left now? A lifetime of being cared for?

No, I don't want to hold the fork or spoon or whatever it is. I can't see the food! Just leave me alone!

I just hit someone. I really didn't mean to do that. I pull my hands to my chest and hope I look contrite. No one touches me or tries to get me to hold a utensil. I guess I made my point.

------

Okay, that wasn't one of my finer moments. I know they're trying to help. I'm just tired of waiting for everything to come back. I want to see and hear again.

I…will.

Teal'c has come in. He hasn't touched me but I can detect his scent. I know why he's here. Everyone else is afraid that I'll throw another tantrum. I can't imagine what Teal'c would do if I belted him. I hope he'd give me the benefit of the doubt.

The food is still here somewhere. I can smell it. Chicken. I'm starved. So how stubborn should I be?

I just don't want to give in to my helplessness. Somehow I feel that if I do, this mess will become permanent. Kinda superstitious, I guess, but right now I don't have much to hold on to.

Dammit. I'm too hungry to keep this up. I reach out in the direction that the food should be. Let's play 'baby feeding himself.' Should be fun to watch. But I don't have any dignity left.

What…who…must be Teal'c. He's putting something in my hand. Probably a fork. Now he's guiding my hand. The utensil reaches my lips, and I can smell chicken. I open my mouth and the food goes in neatly and without smearing on my cheek or chin.

I can't…

The chicken sits in my mouth as I try not to cry. I have to press my lips together to keep the sudden rush of saliva from overflowing. My free hand, the one that Teal'c is not holding, covers my face.

My other hand is still being held by Teal'c.

So gentle. I'd give anything to be able to see Teal'c's face. I need to tell him…

I need to thank him. His hand tightens around mine. If I'm not careful I'm going to accidentally spit out my bite of chicken. I begin to chew, hoping that the movement will keep my emotions under control. I can't believe I'm so close to crying.

Teal'c knows. His strength is palpable through his fingers. He is a warrior; he is my friend. I always knew this, but when I was able to see him I didn't realize that I _needed_ to see him.

------

Sam spent quite a bit of time with me today. I never noticed before how nice she smells. Flowery. Sweet. Very…nice. Comforting. She has a very gentle touch. I guess most people don't see…realize that she's more than a soldier. I feel comforted when she's nearby. Like she's a sister…mother. Okay, that's weird. I'm having some pretty strange thoughts lately. Too much time to spend just thinking. I almost want to send Sam away so that she can help Dr. Fraiser work on finding a cure for me. Between the two of them I'm sure that they'll find something…

------

Ouch! I know I said that. Dr. Fraiser takes way too much pleasure in giving shots. Here I am, minding my own business, and the next thing I know my gown is pulled aside and my butt is a pincushion.

I wonder what this shot is for. Maybe it's a cure.

------

It wasn't. A cure. I'm still in the wonderful world of darkness and silence.

------

Okay, I'm officially desperate. I've got to get out of this bed. No. Out of this infirmary.

How closely are they watching me? I think it's night. Things slow down at night, and they haven't bothered me for awhile.

How far can I get? This should be funny.

------

This is not funny. I have no clue where I am. Where are all my keepers? I just got out of bed and walked…somewhere.

Actually, I'm probably in the hall. I knew which direction to go, and away I went. Now, however, I'm stumped.

And kinda scared. I guess I could start calling. Hey, helpless patient is stuck somewhere. Come help him.

------

No one's come. I can't believe this. I thought I was heading back toward the infirmary, but I ran into a door. Went back, found another door. No infirmary. No help. Hello? Anyone there?

------

I know Janet's yelling at me. Can't see or hear her, but I can guarantee she's venting big time. The pressure of her hand on my arm is a dead giveaway. For a small woman she's pretty strong.

Okay, you can get your nails out of my skin anytime now. I promise I won't go exploring anymore.

Won't go anywhere.


	3. Chapter 3

Freedom! The team's taking me out. Where we're going, I don't know, but who cares! I'm getting out!

Jack has me by one arm, Sam by the other. Teal'c is on my six. New mission: take Daniel out!

We walk slowly, carefully. The elevator ride is fun; takes me back to when I was a kid and reveled in the lose-your-stomach sensation. I wonder when I stopped noticing it.

We're outside! I can instantly feel the sun on my body. I raise my face to the heat, and even though my eyes are wide open, the sun's rays are invisible. Only the warmth exists for me.

I'm suddenly overwhelmed with sadness. Self-pity, I tell myself. Thousands of people are blind. Thousands are deaf. I'm sure there must be hundreds who are deaf and blind.

Sam's arm wraps around my waist. How does she know? I smile for her and am rewarded/surprised with a kiss. Wow. Her lips are _really_ soft. I hope I'm not blushing. Jack slaps me on the back. I must be red as a tomato.

------

We're at Jack's. I'm pleased that I know where I am.

No I'm not. I don't want to get used to this. Getting used to it is too close to giving up, and I'm definitely not at that stage. I won't accept this. I can't.

It's not supposed to go down like this. The good guy is supposed to win in the end. And I think that I'm a good guy. I've always tried to be.

What? Oh, beer. Well, not my favorite, but why not? It's not like I've got much of a choice here.

I know I'm wallowing in self-pity. For the moment I don't care. It just doesn't matter.

------

Wow.

I'm feelin' pretty good. I don't know what everybody else is doing, but I'm really enjoying this bourbon.

Somebody gave me a shot and I just swallowed it. Not my usual protocol, but hey, what's a guy to do?

Now I'm on my…sixth? Seventh? Don't remember. Somebody just keeps pourin' and I just keep drinkin'.

I don't even like bourbon.

Wow.

------

Whoa. I don't think I like this ride. Please let me off.

Where am I? Thought I was at Jack's…

I'm in a car. Must've dozed off. How'd they get me in a car?

Oh no. I'm gonna be…

------

This is _so_ not good.

They'll never take me anywhere again. I'm making a real mess in the car.

Oh, I think I'm gonna die… 

------

Uh oh.

Janet's yelling again. I've only been back in the infirmary for a minute and her hand is already clutching my arm. _Hard_. She's really, really mad.

Please let me lie down. I'm gonna hurl again if you don't let me…

Oh…oh…

I tried to warn you…

Just let me get in bed…please!

Yes…the bed. Now just let me lie here without moving and maybe my gut won't roll so badly.

I can imagine what she's saying to Jack, Sam, and Teal'c. Kinda glad I can't hear her. In a way.

Not really.

------

Oh, my head. Maybe if I hold it long enough Janet'll give me something for this hangover.

Then again, maybe not. I think she's still mad.

Well, it wasn't my fault. I just drank what they gave me. It's not like I did it myself.

Right?


	4. Chapter 4

_Many thanks to all those who have taken the time to read my story, and a special thank you to those who have reviewed. Writers live for feedback!_

_A couple of notes for this section…Jason is a real person. He's been an inspiration to many, including myself. Also, this section contains some strong language. I really don't like using the curses that I've included, but I wanted to make Daniel's position clear. I hope I don't offend. _

I've been thinking about Jason. Jason and his leg.

A friend back in college. Always ready to have some fun. I was usually too busy to go out on the town with him, but when I did I had a great time.

One day Jason was in an accident. Lost his leg.

It was rough for awhile. He went through some depression. He'd been pretty athletic; a wrestler.

Then he got his prosthetic leg. Changed everything. After a time he could walk without a limp. He even had a set of legs; one for walking and one for running. He began coaching wrestling. And he had fun.

I went with him a few times. We'd be sitting at a table in a restaurant and he'd turn his leg backward. The looks he got from waitresses and other patrons were priceless. He'd just sit back and act like nothing was wrong.

Last I heard, Jason got married and had a little girl.

He's living a normal life.

Like I'm going to have to do.

I don't know if I've got what it takes. I never got inside Jason's head to see how he got through his ordeal. I just saw the results.

Jason might have gone home and screamed until he couldn't scream anymore. He might have punched holes in walls. But when he joined the world, he was Jason. Not Jason who lost his leg.

Just Jason.

So I'm going to have to become Daniel. Not blind and deaf Daniel.

Just Daniel.

But first I need to scream and punch some holes.

------

Old Spice. I can easily smell it. My breath catches; I almost choke. It's General Hammond.

No, no, please not this. I'm losing the fight. Sam, Jack, and Teal'c have been sitting with me for some time, and General Hammond just came in, and God help me I'm about to lose it.

I don't want General Hammond to see me like this. I'm not sure why…maybe I feel like I've failed him somehow or something. I don't know. But the scent of his Old Spice sends me back to the briefing room, back to my former life, back to the commander of our missions, all of which is very far away.

He's next to me. His hand pats my arm. I'm sure he's saying something reassuring. Something that I can't hear.

I'm shaking. My body has started the meltdown and I'm powerless to stop it. I abruptly sit up and feel myself bump against Hammond.

Please go away! Don't watch me! I can't deal with this.

Get out…get out. I think I'm saying it aloud. How can I say this to Hammond? Have I lost everything?

I'm sinking…faster and faster. I swing my arms…hit the tray. It tips over. Falling…falling…

But I hear nothing. The sound must be deafening, but I'm not included in the normalcy of clattering trays and exclamations of surprise.

I want to hear it! I want to see it fall! I can't stand this anymore!

They're trying to calm me…their hands are on me. I won't be calmed. I'm stumbling out of the bed. They're all trying to pull me back but I fight them. I hit someone with my fist.

I'm screaming…I know my mouth is open and my tongue is moving and my lips are forming words even though I hear nothing. Words must be coming out! I haven't lost everything. I know they can hear me. My lips and tongue move and my throat vibrates and I know that I'm screaming at them. My words, silent to my ears, do exist; they _must_ exist, because they _must_ hear me. They must understand. I curse them, hurling at them ugly, horrible words that I never use, trying to hurt them with my tenuous weapon of words.

I pull away from them. Two, maybe three steps before I collide with the next bed. Arms wrap around me. Old Spice and sweat drench my nostrils. Let me go, fucking son of a _bitch_!

Falling…they hold my arms and legs. I'm on the floor…helpless, at their mercy. I can't see them or hear them but they still control me.

No! They press harder on me, stopping my movements. No, don't hold me so tight! I feel terror at the helplessness. I scream at them. I'm so angry…_terrified_.

No…no…no…stop. Don't give me a shot. Please, don't give me a shot.

No…no…no…no…

------

No.

I can feel it, but I'm too tired to lift my arm to wipe it away.

Maybe no one's around. I don't feel anyone.

It travels down my cheek and ends up in my pillow. The track it leaves behind is itchy, but I revel in the sensation. I don't have much left.

Another one. Same eye. Wonder what's wrong with the other eye? Follows the same track. Must be some little pool developing on my pillow.

Not much left. My throat is beginning to get tight. I don't believe this. I'm not crying.

Ah, there goes the other eye. About time.

Need a kleenex. I know there's a box somewhere on my tray.

Of course I can't find it. Dammit to hell! I'm so sick of this!

The tray doesn't tip as I hit it, and now my hand hurts. And no kleenex.

It's too much.

I'm so scared. It's so dark and quiet. No…black and silent. Nothing there. I'm really blubbering now. Hope no one's there.

Hope someone is…

Arms around me, pulling me up. I grab onto someone's jacket. Pulling tighter. Don't let go. I'm so scared. Crying so hard I can't breathe. Holding on. Just holding on.

It's Jack. He's holding me with both arms and I can't stop the sobs and he pulls me tighter against him. I clutch at him, desperate. I cry and try to speak, try to tell him how sorry and scared and…and…

I'm terrified, and my only safety is in the man who is holding me as though we are hovering over an abyss. His arms pull me even tighter; I feel his hand on the back of my head. Jack won't let me fall. I huddle into his chest and just give in.

------

He's still sitting with me, his hand resting on mine. I think he knows how much I…want him to be here. He handed me a bunch of tissues. I must've gone through an entire box. I'll be wiping my face with my sheet in a minute.

I'm so embarrassed. I can't believe that I broke down like that. And yet…I think it's okay. Jack didn't run away when I fell apart. He could've let Janet handle my bawlfest. But he didn't. He stayed with me.

I use up the last of the kleenex. I think I've cried myself out. Hope so, anyway.

Now what? How do I let Jack know how much his being here means to me? I think I'm saying thank you. My words must've been close. He squeezes my hand.


	5. Chapter 5

_Wow! I'm overwhelmed by the great reviews and suggestions. This is the final chapter, and I'm honestly sorry to have it end. To those who have mentioned methods of communication, I have this excuse for not using more than what I have. I wanted to keep Daniel in the dark, both literally and figuratively. I wanted to create an environment in which Daniel has no way of knowing what is happening save through his senses of touch and smell. I also wanted him to wonder if his methods of communication were working, like when he speaks and knows that he must be making noise. That's not to say that I don't love the suggestions, because the idea of Jack spelling into Daniel's hand is quite intriguing. I don't know what the future holds for this story, but I have been known to do rewrites after some reflection, so be warned!_

------

I'm beginning to think that this is going to be the way it ends up. Daniel Jackson, invalid.

What am I going to do? I can't very well live on my own. Guess I could live out my days here at the SGC. I mean, my disability did occur in the line of duty.

But then what? I can't expect everyone to place their lives on hold just because mine has come to a screeching halt.

I don't have the answers. I don't know if anyone does.

------

Something's up. I feel/sense a new presence. Touches all over—there must be a battalion of nurses. And then, underneath it all, I know that my team is there. The familiar odors penetrate everything, and I am calmed.

Okay, so what's going on? I feel hands on my arms and legs. Someone is placing something on my head. It feels like headphones. Real funny, guys.

That new presence. I can definitely smell him/her. Not a bad odor; just different from what I've become accustomed to. He/she is by my head, adjusting the headphones. Maybe he/she isn't in on the joke.

Expectation is making me breathe harder. I can feel my chest expanding faster. The hands tighten on my wrists and ankles, and the headphones are pressed hard onto my head. Ow.

Hey…what's going on? That kinda hurts. Some type of pressure on my head…no, _in _my head. Growing. I try to pull my hand away, but the fingers hold on tighter. I'm starting to get a little freaked out.

Okay, this _really_ hurts. The pressure in my head is becoming much more intense. I know I'm panting. I think I'm moaning. You can stop any time now, guys.

Ahhh! Stop it! I mean it! Stop! Stop!

------

Someone's wiping my face. I'm too upset to decipher who it is. I can't believe how much that hurt. Whatever they were doing. I assume it was some type of treatment.

So far it hasn't helped. But maybe it'll take some time. I must be patient.

------

Again? Uh, no, I don't think so. That last little treatment hurt like hell and I'm no better, so…

No, don't hold me down. I'm not going through that again. There's got to be a better way…

No! I—can't—get—loose. I don't believe this. They've put me in restraints! Look guys, there really must be a better way.

They've put those damned headphones on me again. Please, not again!

Ahhh! It's—stronger—this—time! My head…my head! Stop! I don't think I can…

------

I must've passed out. I don't remember the torture…treatment…stopping. The headphones are gone.

My face is wet. Someone…

Sam. She's wiping my cheeks.

My throat's sore. Must've been using the ole vocal cords big time. I reach out and Sam instantly grabs my hand.

I'm again amazed at how soft her hands are. Their very softness soothes me. How does she keep them so feminine? She works as hard as anyone, and yet, hidden from us, is a woman who manages to keep the beauty of her gender while operating in situations where there can be no weaknesses or differences. I know that I'll never look at Sam the same way again.

Well, wasn't _that_ a slip. Look at Sam. Funny how our language is filled with sensory words. Oh yeah. Real funny.

Now she's stroking my forehead. I know I'm sweaty. That can't be pleasant for her, but she's continuing. I turn my face into her hand, and I can smell my own perspiration on her skin. I lift my hand to push hers away. She lifts my hand to her lips and kisses it.

How does she know what to do? My sore throat tightens and my nose runs. I pull her hand to my face and place it against my cheek. My eyes squeeze shut and I hold my breath and Sam sits by my side, her hand pressed to my cheek, and I hope.

------

Something's happening. Dr. Fraiser has been fussing over me for quite some time. The new presence—the one of the wicked headphones—is also hovering. I've been waiting for another torture treatment but so far they haven't produced the headphones or the restraints.

Now Fraiser's spreading my eyelids wide apart. Probably shining that penlight of hers into my eyes. Kinda glad I can't see it. Ha. Ha. Bad joke.

But…wait. Wait a minute. I think…I think I saw something.

Doc! Doc! I feel her hand on mine. I find my eye; spread my eyelids apart; do it again!

She must have the penlight shining in my eye again. I _feel_ it. It actually hurts my eye.

Wait…I see it! It's beautiful! A fuzzy, glowing little ball, so beautiful after all the darkness.

She shines the light in my other eye. Yeah! I see it again! I'm saying it over and over, I can see it! I can see it!

------

It's coming back. I don't want to get my hopes up, but I'm excited. The light is definitely getting brighter, and I'm beginning to hear whispers of noises. Squeaks at first, which drove me crazy until I realized that they were the wheels of the tray next to my bed. Just a minute ago I distinctly heard the klaxons. It sounded as though they were far away, but it was a sound. So the torture treatments actually worked. I can't stop smiling.

I thought…I thought…

Okay. I thought it was all over. No more SG-1. No more studying my languages and artifacts. I don't know when I've ever been more scared. The SGC is my whole world now. The people…Jack, Sam, Teal'c, General Hammond, Dr. Fraiser…I owe them so much. I never realized how much I needed them until the only way I could know they were there was through their touch. I don't want to forget the lessons I've learned.

------

I'm better. Not one hundred percent, but pretty close. Dr. Fraiser says I had some alien virus that attacked my brain. I think I phased her out after I heard the word "brain," but she keeps assuring me that there is no residual damage. I wonder _aloud _if there is any residual damage from the torture treatments. I _see_ Janet's smirk.

I'm still confined to the infirmary until everything returns to normal. Fraiser thinks maybe another day and I'll be back on my feet. Or eyes and ears.

Anyway, everything's pretty good. Jack is still hanging around getting in everybody's way. Sam and Teal'c are constantly coming in, and even General Hammond has been here. Thank God Hammond didn't mention my meltdown. I couldn't look him in the face. I've got a lot of apologizing to do.

Jack is really shaken up. I know he's trying to hide it, but he's clingy, like he's afraid I'm going to go deaf and blind again. He keeps patting me on the shoulder or arm, touching.

I don't want to lose that.

Good friends.


End file.
